Ira Levin - Rosemary’s Baby

“Just after midnight on June twenty-fifth,” Roman said. “Exactly half the year ‘round from you-know. Isn’t it perfect?”

“But why are you surprised?” the newcomer asked with both his hands outstretched. “Didn’t Edmond Lautreamont predict June twenty-fifth three hundred years ago?”

“Indeed he did,” Roman said, smiling, “but it’s such a novelty for one of his predictions to prove accurate!” Everyone laughed. “Come, my friend,” Roman said, drawing the newcomer forward, “come see Him. Come see the Child.”

They went to the bassinet, where Laura-Louise waited with a shopkeeper’s smile, and they closed around it and looked into it silently. After a few moments the newcomer lowered himself to his knees.

Guy and Mr. Wees came in.

They waited in the archway until the newcomer had risen, and then Guy came over to Rosemary. “She’ll be all right,” he said; “Abe is in there with her.” He stood looking down at her, his hands rubbing at his sides. “They promised me you wouldn’t be hurt,” he said. “And you haven’t been, really.

I mean, suppose you’d had a baby and lost it; wouldn’t it be the same? And we’re getting so much in return, Ro.”

She put the handkerchief on the table and looked at him. As hard as she could she spat at him.

He flushed and turned away, wiping at the front of his jacket. Roman caught him and introduced him to the newcomer, Argyron Stavropoulos.

“How proud you must be,” Stavropoulos said, clasping Guy’s hand in both his own. “But surely that isn’t the mother there? Why in the name of-“ Roman drew him away and spoke in his ear.

“Here,” Minnie said, and offered Rosemary a mug of steaming tea. “Drink this and you’ll feel a little better.”

Rosemary looked at it, and looked up at Minnie. “What’s in it?” she said; “tannis root?”

“Nothing is in it,” Minnie said. “Except sugar and lemon. It’s plain ordinary Lipton tea. You drink it.” She put it down by the handkerchief.

The thing to do was kill it. Obviously. Wait till they were all sitting at the other end, then run over, push away Laura-Louise, and grab it and throw it out the window. And jump out after it. Mother Slays Baby and Self at Bramford.

Save the world from God-knows-what. From Satan-knows-what.

A tail! The buds of his horns!

She wanted to scream, to die.

She would do it, throw it out and jump.

They were all milling around now. Pleasant cocktail party. The Japanese was taking pictures; of Guy, of Stavropoulos, of Laura-Louise holding the baby.

She turned away, not wanting to see.

Those eyes! Like an animal’s, a tiger’s, not like a human being’s!

He wasn’t a human being, of course. He was-some kind of a half-breed.

And how dear and sweet he had looked before he had opened those yellow eyes! The tiny chin, a bit like Brian’s; the sweet mouth; all that lovely orangered hair . . . It would be nice to look at him again, if only he wouldn’t open those yellow animal-eyes.

She tasted the tea. It was tea.

No, she couldn’t throw him out the window. He was her baby, no matter who the father was. What she had to do was go to someone who would understand. Like a priest. Yes, that was the answer; a priest. It was a problem for the Church to handle. For the Pope and all the cardinals to deal with, not stupid Rosemary Reilly from Omaha.

Killing was wrong, no matter what.

She drank more tea.

He began whimpering because Laura-Louise was rocking the bassinet too fast, so of course the idiot began rocking it faster.

She stood it as long as she could and then got up and went over.

“Get away from here,” Laura-Louise said. “Don’t you come near Him. Roman!”

“You’re rocking him too fast,” she said.

“Sit down!” Laura-Louise said, and to Roman, “Get her out of here. Put her back where she belongs.”

Rosemary said, “She’s rocking him too fast; that’s why he’s whimpering.”

“Mind your own business!” Laura-Louise said.

“Let Rosemary rock Him,” Roman said.

Laura-Louise stared at him.

“Go on,” he said, standing behind the bassinet’s hood. “Sit down with the others. Let Rosemary rock Him.”

“She’s liable-“

“Sit down with the others, Laura-Louise.”

She huffed, and marched away.

“Rock Him,” Roman said to Rosemary, smiling. He moved the bassinet back and forth toward her, holding it by the hood.

She stood still and looked at him. “You’re trying to-get me to be his mother,” she said.

“Aren’t you His mother?” Roman said. “Go on. Just rock Him till He stops complaining.”

She let the black-covered handle come into her hand, and closed her fingers around it. For a few moments they rocked the bassinet between them, then Roman let go and she rocked it alone, nice and slowly. She glanced at the baby, saw his yellow eyes, and looked to the window. “You should oil the wheels,” she said. “That could bother him too.”

“I will,” Roman said. “You see? He’s stopped complaining. He knows who you are.”

“Don’t be silly,” Rosemary said, and looked at the baby again. He was watching her. His eyes weren’t that bad really, now that she was prepared for them. It was the surprise that had upset her. They were pretty in a way. “What are his hands like?” she asked, rocking him.

“They’re very nice,” Roman said. “He has claws, but they’re very tiny and pearly. The mitts are only so He doesn’t scratch Himself, not because His hands aren’t attractive.”

“He looks worried,” she said.

Dr. Sapirstein came over. “A night of surprises,” he said.

“Go away,” she said, “or I’m going to spit in your face.”

“Go away, Abe,” Roman said, and Dr. Sapirstein nodded and went away.

“Not you,” Rosemary said to the baby. “It’s not your fault. I’m angry at them, because they tricked me and lied to me. Don’t look so worried; I’m not going to hurt you.”

“He knows that,” Roman said.

“Then what does he look so worried for?” Rosemary said. “The poor little thing. Look at him.”

“In a minute,” Roman said. “I have to attend to my guests. I’ll be right back.” He backed away, leaving her alone.

“Word of honor I’m not going to hurt you,” she said to the baby. She bent over and untied the neck of his gown. “Laura-Louise made this too tight, didn’t she. I’ll make it a little looser and then you’ll be more comfortable. You have a very cute chin; are you aware of that fact? You have strange yellow eyes, but you have a very cute chin.”

She tied the gown more comfortably for him.

Poor little creature.

He couldn’t be all bad, he just couldn’t. Even if he was half Satan, wasn’t he half her as well, half decent, ordinary, sensible, human being? If she worked against them, exerted a good influence to counteract their bad one . . .

“You have a room of your own, do you know that?” she said, undoing the blanket around him, which was also too tight. “It has white-and-yellow wallpaper and a white crib with yellow bumpers, and there isn’t one drop of witchy old black in the whole place. We’ll show it to you when you’re ready for your next feeding. In case you’re curious, I happen to be the lady who’s been supplying all that milk you’ve been drinking. I’ll bet you thought it comes in bottles, didn’t you. Well it doesn’t; it comes in mothers, and I’m yours. That’s right, Mr. Worry-face. You seem to greet the idea with no enthusiasm whatsoever.”

Silence made her look up. They were gathering around to watch her, stopping at a respectful distance.

She felt herself blushing and turned back to tucking the blanket around the baby. “Let them watch,” she said; “we don’t care, do we? We just want to be all cozy and comfortable, like so. There. Better?”